


Where Our Horizons Meet Once Again

by carolee_sea



Series: After the Storm [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Falling In Love, Fishing, Gardens & Gardening, Islands, M/M, Miya Atsumu is Very Attractive, implied past kagehina
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:53:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23934895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolee_sea/pseuds/carolee_sea
Summary: Summer descends upon a fishing village on an island. This is the story of Hinata Shouyou, who can make plants grow from concrete, and Miya Atsumu, a fisherman searching for the silver marlin.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu
Series: After the Storm [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1934647
Comments: 42
Kudos: 172





	Where Our Horizons Meet Once Again

**Author's Note:**

> this idea came to me at 3 AM while rewatching Seventeen's One Fine Day/Castaways. as always, have fun and enjoy!

“I heard you grow pumpkins.” There’s a man peeking over the stone wall. He has silver hair and light eyes that remind Shouyou of foxes. 

“I do.” Shouyou stands up from where he was pulling out chives. He regards the stranger curiously. The island he’s lived on his entire life is small enough that the total number of residents is under two hundred, yet there are still some that he’s never seen around before. Since there aren’t many visitors in May, this person must be from the other side of the island.

The stranger hoists himself up over the wall. “I’m Miya Osamu.”

The name rings a familiar bell, but Shouyou isn’t sure where he’s heard it before. “Nice to meet you, I’m Hinata Shouyou,” he replies, to be polite.

“I know,” Miya smiles mysteriously. 

“Is there something you need me for?”

“Ah. I own a restaurant on the cliffs near Inarizaki Bay, and I’m trying out new menu items. You’re the only person on the island who has pumpkins.”

Shouyou frowns. “Who told you I had pumpkins?”

“I usually order from Seijou Food Company. There’s this guy that works there, a fisherman, pretty face, wavy brown hair, he said he knows you.”

“Oikawa Tooru?” The young fishermen around the island are all attractive, Oikawa exceptionally so, and he’s popular with the ladies and men alike. He’s never working when Shouyou sees him around, yet no one can doubt his skills and the large catch he brings in each day. Shouyou shrugs. “I can show you my pumpkins. What kind of dish are you trying to make anyway?”

Shouyou leads him to his pumpkin patch, and Miya brightens up as he details his plans for his new dish, a crab and vermicelli pumpkin soup. Shouyou has never heard of such a ridiculous dish in his life. Then again, Miya’s restaurant is up on the cliffs, in the fancy part of town.

The pumpkins lay plump among dark leaves, each about a meter long in diameter, pale and mottled with orange and dusky browns. Miya whistles. “Wow, those are some big pumpkins! I guess it wasn’t an exaggeration when they said you could ‘make plants grow from concrete’.” 

Shouyou beams with pride. Miya pays for a pumpkin to take back to his restaurant and promises to come back for more the following week, waving amicably as he leaves down the cobbled paths.

〜〜〜

“Whoa! Is that saffon?”

“Gaahhh!” Shouyou almost falls over in surprise when he sees Miya Osamu peeking over the wall again. The one in Shouyou’s back garden is a lot taller, and Miya has some trouble climbing over it. When Miya grumbles about all the walls around Shouyou’s house, Shouyou tells him it’s to keep the sea wind out. 

“So, is that really a saffron flower?” Miya kneels down and scrutinizes the delicate purple flower. 

“Oh. Yes. I grow a lot of unconventional crops. You won’t find most of the herbs from my garden at Seijou.” 

There’s a glint in Miya’s eyes as he turns to Shouyou.

〜〜〜

Shouyou has just finished heaving his crate of vegetables off of his bike when Miya appears from the back door of his restaurant. A healthy breeze is in the air, the sky impeccably blue. 

Miya’s restaurant overlooks Inarizaki Bay, the large open windows displaying a dazzling view of the ocean below. Turquoise blue waters shimmer in the afternoon sun with their full splendor, complimented by the rust copper color of the cliffs above. It’s definitely a restaurant for special occasions. Then again, there are always special occasions, so Miya never runs out of customers.

“Why don’t you get Ushijima to deliver your vegetables? Seijou Food Co. does it,” Miya asks as he helps Shouyou carry the heavy crate inside the restaurant. Ushijima Wakatoshi is the son of the owners of Shiratorizawa Tavern, and he has the fastest delivery service on the island. His favorite pastime is terrorizing Oikawa, according to Oikawa himself.

“I- don’t- have- the money,” Shouyou huffs. He wipes the sweat off his temples with the back of his hand. It’s a long and hard bike up the hill to Miya’s restaurant, especially with a crate full of vegetables weighing him down. Miya offers him a hand towel. “I’m not exactly a business. I grow plants for myself.”

“You’re very good at it.” Miya hums as he inspects the daikon. “Your green onions are cheaper than what Seijoh offers.”

Shouyou sighs. “I plant enough to be self-sufficient,” he points out. “I don’t care much for vegetable prices. I’m not gonna have enough to eat if you keep ordering more from my garden each week.”

“Can’t help it,” Miya grins. “How about you stay for a bit? I’ll make you lunch, my treat.”

“I already ate,” Shouyou protests, but Miya ushers him into a seat at the sushi bar anyway.

Miya serves a modified _omakase_ consisting of fresh sashimi, braised abalone, and miso soup. It’s terrible. How good it is. Shouyou is no food connoisseur, but the way the flavors meld together and the way the textures dance on his tongue are heavenly. It may be the best thing he’s ever tasted.

There’s a satisfied look on Miya’s face as he observes Shouyou’s reactions, as if he were the one who had just finished eating the meal. “Good, right?”

Shouyou nods slowly, still savoring lingering traces of yuzu. “Where do you get your fish? For the third course you had deep sea tuna. Seijoh fishermen usually only fish near the shore.” 

“Wow, you sure know a lot about fish for a gardner,” Miya chuckles. “You’re right though. I get most of my fish from Seijoh, but my brother also helps out. I used to be a fisherman, you know. My brother’s still one. He’s crazy. Insane.” 

There’s an exasperated but fond look on Miya’s face. “Man, he was so angry when I decided to quit fishing with him and open a restaurant instead. Whatever, enough about him.” Miya’s eyes are unsettling up close. Shouyou is reminded of foxes again. “Tell me how you liked the squid.”

〜〜〜

The sun is still sleeping, and the morning stars remain shining, bright tiny pinpricks against the dark skies. Shouyou is checking on his chickens when he spots a shadowed figure in his garden. 

The intruder is kneeling amongst the cabbage, digging into the dirt. Silent, deadly, fast, Shouyou rushes at the intruder like a speeding torpedo.

They collide and the intruder collapses on the ground with a pained yelp. It’s a man, and his body is packed with muscle. Shouyou decides to take his chances. No one’s gonna steal his prized vegetables without a fight.

“Damnit!” The intruder is yelling bloody murder as Shouyou pummels him with his fists, and Shouyou has a brief moment of confusion because isn’t Shouyou supposed to be the one yelling for help? He’s the one getting stolen from, for god’s sake. After getting over the initial surprise, the intruder does a good job of fending off Shouyou. Shouyou’s winning, until the intruder’s windbreaker hood falls and reveals his face—

“There’s two Miya Osamus?!”

“Whaddya mean _two Osamus_? I’m the original!” the Second Miya Osamu shouts indignantly, and they begin grappling again.

“Stop! Stop! I’m not stealing your fuck ass plants!” the Second Miya Osamu pleads between blows as they tumble around on the dirt. Shouyou stops.

“What’re you doing in my garden then?” Shouyou says. He’s sitting firmly on top of the Second Miya Osamu, pinning him down, fist drawn back and ready to punch. He fixes the man with his most dangerous glare.

“Worms! I need worms!” the Second Miya Osamu squeaks out. For all his brawn, he looks rather pitiful and weak with his soft blonde hair and startled eyes. It’s one of the strangest things anyone has come to Shouyou’s garden for, so he lets the man off and invites him into his house.

〜〜〜

His name is Miya Atsumu. 

Shouyou finds out right away that Osamu is a good-natured blessing compared to his disaster of a twin brother. Atsumu is a storm. A tempest. A hurricane. 

He’s also a fisherman, with near legendary status in the fishing community. He’s on some grand quest to catch the elusive silver marlin. 

“A fish with scales that shine like millions of multi-colored diamonds,” Atsumu tells him, eyes sparkling in excitement. “It’s bigger than a blue marlin, faster than a black marlin.”

Atsumu has been at his quest for several months now, experimenting with many different methods: different rods, boats, bait. Nothing has worked so far.

“You think worms are going to help you catch a thousand kilogram fish?” Shouyou deadpans.

“You never know—”

“Osamu’s right. You’re crazy.”

Atsumu huffs. “And you’re crazy for planting wasabi on an island. But you’ve done it, haven’t you?”

Shouyou is stunned. “How’d you know that?” 

“‘Samu keeps yapping about how he’s so lucky he doesn’t have to import wasabi from the mainland anymore. Drives me nuts how he’s always talking about you. But I guess you’re not so bad.”

Atsumu looks different in the warm light of Shouyou’s small kitchen, larger than life, heroic, even. Shouyou can’t help but admire him. He berates himself for falling for another one of those damn fishermen that only know how to look forward into the horizon with clear eyes.

“Fine,” Shouyou concedes. “I’ll help you get worms. But not from my garden! They’re good for the soil.”

“That’s lovely, sweetcakes. C’mon, let’s go now! We don’t have all day!” Atsumu stands up abruptly, almost knocking over Shouyou’s porcelain water pitcher with his elbow. 

Shouyou points out that they do have all day. They do. 

〜〜〜

The worms don’t work, but Atsumu continues coming back.

He lives on the other side of the island, near the Itachiyama fishery, which is why Shouyou has never seen him before. Since Atsumu started fishing more on Shouyou’s side of the island in search of the silver marlin, he drops by almost every other day.

Atsumu is currently slumped over a chair at Shouyou’s tiny dining table. He complains about how everything in Shouyou’s house is small, including Shouyou. He then goes on to complain about the way Shouyou is filleting Atsumu’s freshly-caught hamachi, even though he can’t possibly see what Shouyou is doing to it as he leans back and stares at the ceiling. This helps confirm Shouyou’s belief that all fishermen are fussy, exasperating people. He likes it.

"I've always wondered, what do you get from catching that special fish of yours?" he asks as he turns the gas stove on. Atsumu flops around on the chair, much like a fish. Shouyou is good with plants and baking bread and nothing else. But he’s decent enough at cooking that he doesn’t burn anything. 

"I dunno." Atsumu's face takes on a ponderous look. "Bragging rights, maybe? Oh yeah, and I made a bet with Omi. Uhh, he's this guy that works at the fishery. Terrible dude."

Shouyou sprinkles a dash of salt over the hamachi. Atsumu’s a hard worker when it comes to fishing. From early in the morning, before the sun even rises, he’ll be out at sea, rain or shine.

"I mean,” Atsumu shifts in his seat again, watching Shouyou set the finished plate down in front of him. “What do _you_ get from raising such difficult plants? Isn't it just the same for both of us? The challenge of it all?" Atsumu’s eyes are shining, and it’s different from Osamu’s more muted excitement. The look in Atsumu’s grey eyes is wild, almost predatory.

Atsumu is just as delighted as Osamu is with the size of Shouyou’s pumpkins. Whenever he visits, he listens carefully as he makes Shouyou describe all his plants in great detail. Shouyou walks him along the rows of cabbage in the front yard and the pumpkins hidden in the shade beneath the stone walls. Around the perimeter of Shouyou’s house, special herbs are lined up against the white walls, full of exotic colors that shine like gemstones among dirt. Gardening has nothing to do with fishing, but Atsumu is always enraptured. Shouyou asks him why one day. 

“Well,” Atsumu answers, glancing at Shouyou with those half-lidded amber eyes of his. “It’s a miracle being able to grow anything on this island, with so much salt in the air and fuck ass soil conditions.”

“A damn miracle, Shouyou, you're a damn miracle.” 

〜〜〜

_Miracle_ , he calls it. Atsumu’s own miracle blooms just a few short days after the words leave his mouth. 

“I’ve- I’ve found it!” Atsumu almost knocks his head against the top of the door frame as he bursts in, so excited that he’s stuttering, tripping over his words. “It got away from me this time, my line snapped and all and the boat almost keeled over— but I know where it is!” He grasps Shouyou by the shoulders, calloused, pole-worn hands warm against Shouyou’s skin.

Atsumu’s eyes are fierce, hungry, as they search him. The energy in the air is so electrifying, and the expression on Atsumu’s face is so passionate and earnest, that when Atsumu starts kissing him, Shouyou can’t find it in himself to be surprised. He kisses back with equal fervor.

They stumble into Shouyou’s tiny bedroom and don't stop. 

〜〜〜

The sea wall by the shore is a frequent place of visitation, where they’ll converse and watch the waves wash against the beach. Shouyou swings his legs back and forth, heels bumping lightly against the sea wall. 

“Hey, Garden Fairy.” Atsumu has been calling him that a lot recently. “You know how to fish, right?”

“Yeah?” Shouyou says cautiously. “Most people living here can catch a pipefish.”

Atsumu waves his hand impatiently. “No, I meant the big fish. What’s the biggest fish you’ve caught?”

Shouyou laughs. “A bonito, six kilograms.”

“Ehhh? That’s kinda unfair, you know.”

“How?! You catch _way_ bigger fish on the daily!” Shouyou slaps Atsumu’s arm jokingly. Damn. Biceps. 

“You can grow plants _and_ fish!” Atsumu puffs his cheeks out, pouting. He looks peevish. “I’ve never tried raising a plant before.” It’s hard for him to admit, Shouyou realizes. Atsumu is one of the most egotistical people Shouyou has ever met, yet Shouyou can’t help but get attached to types like Atsumu, like a moth to a burning candle.

“Teach me how to grow plants, next time.” Atsumu’s smile is blinding. Shouyou’s heart melts, wax drippings down a candle.

〜〜〜

Atsumu takes Shouyou to his side of the island. 

There’s a cove they go swimming in, all emerald green water and smooth pebbles. Atsumu looks handsome in the glow of the sun, sparkling eyes, sharp jawline and his smiles equally as sharp. Shouyou has seen Atsumu shirtless before, but all that skin on full display still gets him a little flustered. 

Atsumu tells him stories of his adventures at sea while they frolic by the tidal pools. He’s brave and brash and wonderful as he recounts battling frothing waves and getting pulled overboard by a mako shark.

They quarrel about useless things as they revel in the simmering heat of June. Shouyou falls fast and hard, in all the literal ways as well. Atsumu takes him cliff diving once. The bruises from falling into the water the wrong way are still fading. It’s not too bad though, when Atsumu presses little butterfly kisses over them.

For all their banter, they don’t talk much when it gets to the tangle of limbs on Shouyou’s bed.

The moonlit breeze drifts through the open window, and Atsumu almost knocks over the vase on the bedside table as he shifts on top of Shouyou. He’s golden, from his hair to his skin to his eyes. Maybe it’s the glow of the lamp, but Shouyou has never seen anything so stunning.

Atsumu kisses _deep_ , deeper than the Pacific, and Shouyou is drowning. He leans his head back against the pillow, dizzy and hardly noticing as Atsumu helps strip them of their clothes. Every touch is heated, hurried yet achingly slow at the same time. 

Both of them are flushed, and Atsumu’s neck and bare shoulders are already covered in a light sheen of sweat. Shouyou gasps out loud as Atsumu presses hard against him, hips grinding down insistently. Atsumu’s skin is burning hot, almost feverish, and it’s so different compared with—

With a moan, Atsumu drops his head to rest against Shouyou’s collarbone. Shouyou fists the sheets as he struggles to sit up, attempting to nudge Atsumu off of him so they can switch positions. Shouyou hovers over him, one hand against Atsumu’s chest and one skirting Atsumu’s thighs. Which are admittedly, very muscular. Atsumu smirks lazily at him. That half-lidded gaze again.

Shouyou drags his thumb along the underside of Atsumu’s cock. “Yah-” Atsumu pants. “You have a green thumb, dontcha?” 

“Oh my god, shut up.”

Atsumu pulls him down again into a scorching kiss. Things escalate rather fast from there. Shouyou is reminded that Atsumu is a whirlwind. He’s rough but sweet with his hands, gentle with his words as he pushes Shouyou over the edge. 

They never talk about this thing, _love_ , but whatever their relationship is, it’s as comfortable as breathing. Atsumu has an attitude like he cares about nothing but fishing and himself, and Shouyou wonders where he fits. 

“C’mere, sweetcakes.” Atsumu reaches for him and Shouyou finds that he fits perfectly in Atsumu’s arms like the shadow of the moon.

〜〜〜

The sunsets come late in July, yet the ocean and ever-warm sand assure the anxious clouds that it is alright. On this particular evening, Shouyou is alone. This makes him restless.

He lingers by the sea wall, hoping to see a boat on the horizon line, but there’s nothing but the strident haze of the setting sun. 

On the way to the Shiratorizawa Tavern, Shouyou comes across Oikawa, who is walking his dog, a Doberman he calls “Iwa-chan”. They exchange a quick greeting, and Oikawa complains about Ushijima. Fishermen are always complaining about something, it seems. Oikawa soon disappears down the road.

The tavern is bustling with familiar faces and unfamiliar ones, but Shouyou quickly spots Tsukishima’s blonde hair above the crowd and finds his way to the bar. Tsukishima, the bartender, has just finished serving Bokuto, who runs the only tourist shop on the island.

Shouyou orders an old fashioned. They make small talk, and Tsukishima asks him about his garden. Shouyou smiles, thinking about strong, calloused hands among basil leaves. He takes a sip.

“Have you seen the King?”

Shouyou freezes up, and it’s not the ice cube he just accidentally swallowed. He knows Tsukishima’s talking about Kageyama. 

“No,” he answers softly. “If you haven’t seen him around, what are the chances I have?”

“You were close with him.” It stings, it still does. “He left around this time last year, huh?”  
Tsukishima’s voice is gentle, and it’s so much worse than when he’s snide.

“Late August,” Shouyou corrects, miserable. He chews on another ice cube.

“Are you worried about him? He’s an idiot, but he’ll be fine. The open sea is where he belongs. It’s not like...” Tsukishima trails off. “Oh.” He adjusts his glasses. “But you’re not.” He sighs and puts the cocktail shaker down more forcefully than usual. 

“He’s moved on to catch bigger fish,” Shouyou says lightly, as if he hasn’t had his heart irrevocably broken. 

“Well, you know what they say, there’s always other fish in the sea,” Tsukkishima jokes, and that’s the closest thing to comfort he can offer. Shouyou asks for another drink. 

〜〜〜

Shouyou sees Atsumu less in August, when he makes longer trips out to sea. The silver marlin has escaped from him three times already, and Atsumu is impatient with the taste of victory so close. 

Atsumu comes back on a Thursday, pressing a kiss to the side of Shouyou’s mouth as he crowds into the kitchen. There’s a different air to him. He’s calm. 

“Tomorrow’s the day.”

Shouyou feels a chill run up his spine. _Tomorrow’s the day_. Tomorrow’s the day Atsumu is going to catch it. And Shouyou has faith that he will.

The sky is gray, like a gull’s wing, and dark clouds are rolling in from the distance. Shouyou has heard the piercing cries of seabirds enough times to recognize the signal of an oncoming storm.

Atsumu is too serious and Shouyou is too nervous to frisk around so they don’t. Atsumu’s eyes are watching the horizon again, cold, calculating. He’s not looking at Shouyou. Shouyou feels a strange sense of deja vu.

“I’ll be fine, sweetcakes.” Atsumu’s nose is in Shouyou’s hair. He can’t remember if he brushed it this morning. “Don’t you worry about me.”

Shouyou makes a small, trapped sound. 

Atsumu draws back and looks at him, puzzled. “What’re you scared of, Garden Fairy?” He leans close and whispers in Shouyou’s ear. “I love you.”

“You’re gonna leave me, aren’t you?” 

Atsumu stares at him. A seabird cries in the distance, a shrill, plaintive sound. “Where’d you get that idea from?” He laughs, and it's warm, reassuring. “I’m comin’ back. Always, sweetcakes. I’m comin’ back for you.”

〜〜〜

_Hope is just delayed disappointment_ , is what Shouyou tells Tsukishima at the bar, head spinning and throat burning from a night of drinking. He doesn’t dare hope anymore, but there’s a thought, of twine like the thinnest fishing line, connecting two destinies, and he holds onto this spark of possibility—

Atsumu is out at sea for three days. For three days, Shouyou barely gets any sleep. 

On the fourth morning, he waits by the sea wall, sitting on the narrow edge, legs dangling over the brinestone. The sun has not risen yet, and the land is awash with the cold blue of early twilight. 

His eyes sting a little from the brittle sea wind as he squints into the horizon. Dawn is beginning to bloom, a blush of rose behind the stately gray clouds of previous night’s storm. The wind quiets to a whisper as the tide stops thrashing. 

As the world starts to wake and brighten, Shouyou spots a dot in the horizon, coming closer. He scrambles to his feet, face lighting up like the day, and he calls out and waves.

**Author's Note:**

> \- the silver marlin does not exist irl, however, it exists in this story  
> \- song rec cuz why not: Seventeen's Love Letter  
> \- i absolutely enjoyed writing atsumu. idk when this trend happened where we make fun of hot characters on twt, but he's sexy it's the Truth. his character in canon is also very... *insert long spiel about how much i love how he's written in canon*  
> \- “hope means delayed disappointment” is one of my favorite quotes atm. it comes from a Putin biography video i watched in my comp gov class  
> \- i got into this thing where i try to make my fics as short as possible while cramming in as much as i can. hopefully it worked  
> \- if this little island village vibed with you in any way, i would love to hear what you think!  
> \- [(very nice) art was drawn](https://twitter.com/carolee_sea_/status/1256509660766433280?s=20)


End file.
